Twiliator
by LolliliciousLolly
Summary: A series of Mediator/Twilight smackdowns, with all our favourite vampires, ghosts, mediators, werewolves, and...well, Bella's just not that special. For the "What If?" Writing Challenge.
1. Raging Nymphomania

**Yes, I am incurably insane. But that is not the point.**

**This is my unofficial entry to the "What if?" Challenge in the Writing Challenge Forum – that I (cough) run. I think I've broken a few of my own rules, but pfft. That's what I judge, not enter. For instance…this is a Mediator/Twilight crossover, bahaha. So yeah. All characters owned by Meg Cabot and Stephenie Meyer respectively. And this won't be the only chapter.**

**Have fun!**

**- Lolly.**

* * *

– TWILIATOR –

'_I'm_ unkillable,' Edward mentioned casually, draping his pale body over the couch of Susannah Simon's living room. The girl in question stood beside Bella Swan and Jacob Black in the corner of the room, eyeing the tense scene that was ready to erupt. Before Edward, a ghostly Jesse crossed his arms, and rolled his eyes.

'As am I, vampire…since I'm already dead.'

'Well, I can lift vans,' Edward sneered, the beginnings of annoyance emerging on his chiselled face.

'So can I,' Jesse's eyebrow quirked up. 'Without lifting a finger…'

The threat in this ghost was now obvious. Tight-lipped, Edward said crisply, 'I can move at the speed of _light_.'

'Light similar to that of my dematerialisation?' Jesse asked lightly.

Edward's nostrils flared.

'_I'm_ not invisible!' he snapped.

'Nor can you experience sunlight…as your pasty, unattractive pallor would suggest.'

'I can sparkle! Hah. Beat that, Casper the Douche-y Ghost!'

Jesse examined his fingernails. 'I don't need sunlight to glow, Cullen...my aura is around twenty four hours a day...'

Edward leapt to his feet.

'I CAN READ MINDS!'

This made Jesse flinch. Aaah, a challenge indeed. So, he dropped all pretences of a fair fight, and fought _dirty_.

'_My girlfriend's hotter…'_ he hissed.

Edward swelled. '…Take that BACK, cowboy!'

'_My_ girlfriend makes Kelly Prescott look like a dog,' Jesse said laughingly.

'A werewolf?' Jacob Black piped up hopefully.

'Not_ that_ bad,' Suze snorted. Jacob pouted.

'Well,_ my _girlfriend punched a werewolf in the face!' Edward said competitively.

'…After jumping him,' Jesse grinned. '_Dios_…it must be hard to deal with her raging nymphomania…'

'YOUR hoe jumped the tennis captain! In his _bedroom_!' Edward retorted accusingly.

Bella and Suze, appalled onlookers, cried, 'Hello? We were _victims_.'

Jacob pouted some more.

Ignoring them, the ancient battle between vampire and were – um, I mean, ghost, waged on…

'_My_ girlfriend is 34B!' Jesse offered.

'MINE'S 32C!'

Jesse glared at Bella invasively, and sighed when he conceded that this was indeed no lie.

'Touché…' he drawled. 'Well, Cullen, _my_ girlfriend isn't a complete and utter wimp.'

Edward looked in horror at Bella. She just shrugged. 'It's fair.'

The vampire's lip curled, revealing sharp white teeth. 'YOU WEAR SPURS!'

Bella grinned. 'Nice one, Edward!'

'Shut up, you fangbanger,' Suze spat.

Narrowing her eyes, Bella warned, 'Don't push me, Suze…'

'What you gonna do? Block-your-mind-from-me to death?'

'She broke my nose once…' Jacob piped up in Bella's defence, but al eyes glared at him fiercely, and he shut up.

Jesse sighed. 'Now Edward. We are gentlemen. We shouldn't be fighting like this…even if it _is_ in your nature to do so, being so young…'

'I died in 1918!' he protested.

With a triumphant smile, Jesse replied, '1850…punk.'

'Why, you _little_ – '

'But – ' Jesse hurried, 'We actually _do_ have a lot in common. I mean…lack of a pulse aside…we are both subjecting our girlfriends to necrophilia.'

…What?

Everyone froze.

'B-but – ' Bella spluttered, 'No, Edward and I don't – '

'BELLA!_ NOOOOO!'_ Edward roared, flinging himself at her to block her mouth.

But the damage…was _done_.

And Suze grinned with Jesse.

'I win,' he said.


	2. Highly Edible

**Chapter two… Bahahaha. Please send all medication to the Lolly Corner.**

**WARNING: Character Death.**

**(…cracks up)**

**- Lolly.**

–TWILIATOR– 

'Are you sure you're ready?' Edward whispered softly, looking deeply into Bella's vulnerable eyes with his liquid topaz ones. She swallowed nervously, before nodding. 

'I'm ready…' 

'We can't go back,' he warned her. 'You may want to, Bella. Are you sure that you – ' 

'I want you for every day of forever,' she said. 'And if this is the only way, then I'll do it.' 

He kissed her sweetly, and she sighed against his lips. Soon, he wouldn't have to hold back on these kisses. Soon, she would have all of him… 

Gently, he picked her up and carried her over to the hotel bed. This couldn't happen back in Forks, lest the Quileutes find out about his breaking of their treaty. She was scared, and that tore him apart. He wanted to make her comfortable, and yet he knew that her fears were completely founded. 

This was going to hurt. 

A lot. 

He wondered if the people running this hotel would notice the absence of the couple from Room 314 for three days. They had arrived at night, one pale and the other an inconceivable shade of white, and would leave at night, their ashen skin tones now matching perfectly. Bella had been waiting for this for a long time, and knew she must not be afraid. 

Staring at his face with wide eyes, she watched as he slowly raised her hand to his mouth, baring his sharp teeth… 

--- When _suddenly, _there was a roaring knock on the door. 

'OPEN UP!' called an aged, yet positively furious voice. 'DON'T THINK I DON'T KNOW WHAT YOU'RE DOING!' 

The pair froze, looking at the hotel door in horror. With a flash of movement, Edward was opening the door warily. 

And before him stood a six-foot old man with snowy white hair, and piercing blue eyes which were narrowed in accusation. Dressed entirely in black with the exception of the little white rectangle at his collar, the old man barged in, looking rather pissed off. 

'I knew it!' he snapped, glaring from Bella to Edward. 'Did you think you'd get away with this?' 

'Who are you?' Edward wanted to know. 

'A vampiric transformation – in a _hotel room?_' the priest went on disparagingly. 'It's appalling! It's an offence to God!' 

'Seriously,' Edward muttered. 'We like…haven't got a clue who you are.' 

'Simply outrageous! To think I let the two of you out of my sight, thinking that you'd both behave rationally and sensibly! Not just thinking with your teeth instead of your brains!' 

'…We're Twilight characters,' Edward frowned. 'I'm positive I haven't seen you through any of the books. Are you a Breaking Dawn character? Because if so, that book is going to sell _really_ badly – ' 

'I am a Mediator! I am Father Dominic, and I am ANGRY!' the priest roared. 

'…_Completely different fandom…_' Edward murmured in disgust. 

Father Dominic seized Edward by his cold, pale ear. 'Young man, you are in serious trouble already! Do _not_ make it worse for yourself! And _you!_' he glared at Bella, who had an uncanny expression on her face, 'I expected better from _you!_' 

He paused. 

'Who am I kidding? Expecting better from Bella?' He snorted. 'Perhaps not. I mean, I think we all expected her to give up the someone's-trying-to-kill-me thing in the first book, not have it continued right through to Eclipse where the _same_ villain was after her…' 

'I am _highly_ edible,' she said defensively. 

'Be that as it may!' he cried, marching over, Edward's ear still in hand, to grab Bella by the arm. 'You children are coming with me, and we are going to perform a good Catholic vampiric transformation.' 

'You are not serious,' Edward said flatly. 

'Do I _look_ like I'm joking?!' the priest demanded. 

'Well, you aren't exactly a good priest,' Bella said fairly. 'You _do_ smoke…and plot to give students lice…hopefully not of the pubic variety, or that would make you a very _bad _priest – ' 

'Silence!' Father Dominic cried. 'We will perform this decently, with God as our witness, or not at all!' 

And he dragged them both off to the Junipero Serra Mission Chapel… 

–_twi_– 

'This is humiliating,' Edward spat. 

'You're telling me,' Bella glared grumpily. 

'All right, now, you've been informed on what you must do,' Father Dominic said. 'Edward? If you would be so kind as to tighten your Dracula cape… and turn the collar up properly on the left side, it's beginning to sag.' 

'Bella will be begin to sag if we don't hurry up,' he retorted. 

He tightened the cape, and put the glow-in-the-dark plastic teeth back in. He really didn't understand what the eye-patch was about though. What self-respecting vampire had an eye-patch? Oh well…After combing his hair into a dipping vee at his forehead, he went and stood back in front of Bella, who was currently lying before him, in a white dress. 

And a coffin. 

Father Dominic began burning the incense which pervaded every possible area of the large chapel. Edward was thankful he did not have to breathe. He wondered if Father Dominic had accidentally burnt a small animal in the incense jar. Most likely. 

'_In the name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Ghost…'_

'Since when are vampires a religious experience?' Edward asked pointedly. 'I mean, besides when they are very hot and you're doing them.' 

'Hear hear,' Bella sighed, twitching in her coffin. 

'_We are gathered here today to devastate all holiness and sanctity of life with the conversion of this rather wimpy young girl into a member of the undead…'_

Bella readjusted the string of garlic around her neck, and fiddled with the wooden stake in her hand. She groaned boredly. 

'_Dominae, excellsis dei, aut saltem corde peccata sua detestans, furnulum pani nolo,_ _carpe diem…'_

'Carpe diem?' Edward snapped. 'What _is_ this?' 

'_Draco dormiens nunquam titillandus, aurora borealis…'_

Edward spat out his vampire fangs in disgust. 'Hey!' 

Bella sat up from the coffin, wiping the dribble of Horror Blood from her neck. 'Wow…Latin is such a pretty language…' 

'_Homo nudus cum nuda iacebat…'_ the priest chanted on. 

Edward didn't know what that one meant, but it still sounded kinda nasty. 'Look! Would you shut up? We don't care about a good Catholic transformation anymore! Portuguese suits us fine! Go away, you crazy old Haley Joel wannabe!' 

'_Et cetera, et cetera, et cetera…'_

'Now you're just saying ANYTHING Latin! Shut up, shut UP!' 

'Edward, calm down,' Bella said soothingly. 'Come now, let's be nice and passive and wimpy about this.' 

'_Quando omni flunkus moritatus…tell me, quando, quando, quando, quaaaaando…'_

'STOP IT!' Edward screamed, his voice reverberating off the topmost roof of the enormous chapel – 

When suddenly, there was a loud gunshot, and Father Dominic fell to the floor, dead. 

From the shadows, a tall blond male figure emerged… 

…Bryce Martinsen. 

'Who?' Bella frowned. 

'A secondary first-book character that no one cares about,' Edward informed her. 

'Oh, right.' 

Bryce flicked his shiny blond locks luxuriously. 'That,' he spat at the dead priest, 'Is for trying to give me lice, you son of a _bitch_.' 

'Thank you,' Edward sighed in relief. 'You came just in time, human.' 

Seeing the vibrant red-head for the first time, Bryce turned to him and blinked, taking in the Dracula get-up, the blood, the garlic, the pointy hair and the black eye-patch. 

'Are you a pirate?' he asked. 

Edward glared. 


	3. Reserection

**And another…bahahaha. A little mature this chapter, so proceed with caution. You may also notice that someone beyond even the Mediator/Twilight universe invaded this chapter! Bahaha… totally nothing to do with Lolly. They just showed up on the doorstep…**

**Chapter is dedicated to Aina, who patiently waited on MSN for it to be written in between sneaking onto my brother's computer since my COMPUTER IS DEAD - cries**

**I'm getting a laptop soon and my stuff's backed up. But STILL…it SUCKS!**

**Much longer Twiliator chapter for you today, folks! Enjoy!**

**- Lolls.**

–TWILIATOR–

News of the tragic death of Father Dominic had spread far and wide across the town of Carmel, yet unsurprisingly no one was really that affected due to the random and spontaneous nature of this tale. However, it was actually in a distant bar on the outskirts of town - a town that is probably Nebraska - where two young men sat amongst the stinky, drunken bar flies, downing the toughest mead they could find. Well, not mead. Paul Slater was more of a light beer kind of guy. Jacob Black, on the other hand, was drowning in a bottle of whiskey.

Both of them stared forlornly at the busty bar-maid, who, despite being a pre-op transsexual, was starting to look more and more appealing by the mouthful.

'I just don't _understand_...' gurgled Jacob, sucking on the Devil's teet again, as more room-temperature whiskey burnt down his throat. 'Why not us?'

Paul glared ahead. His gaze was fairly unsteady though, because he was a total lightweight on the bar stool. 'Because, Black... we are the Other Men.'

Jacob rotated his head and raised a quizzical eyebrow. He grunted, 'Huh?'

'The Other Men...' Paul muttered bitterly. 'The ones who chase and chase...but never get the girl. The one who get a quick fix-up at the end of a series to pacify all the fangirls who were rooting for us with a quick, half-hearted note from the author that we DID get our happily ever after...only we all know that it's just not true. Kelly's at home doing Brad Ackerman as we speak.'

'I didn't get anyone!' Jacob protested, waving his bottle at Paul in fury. Liquid sloshed all over his jeans, but he didn't notice. 'I'm ALONE!'

'Your series hasn't ended, you twat,' Paul rolled his eyes.

'Oh yeah.'

'But you just watch...Stephenie will probably make you imprint on Leah Clearwater or something.'

'Or worse...' Jacob screwed up his face in horror, '...Lauren Mallory.'

Paul chuckled humorlessly. 'Then we truly would be mirror images, my friend...standing beside women who truly do lack any brain activity.'

They both laughed, but the hilarity died pretty hastily when they realised how deeply pathetic they both were. Paul sipped at the bottle once again, and his vision swayed. Jacob belched loudly.

'But...' the dog wanted to know, 'I just don't get it still. Why not us? What's wrong with us? And what's so freakin' special about Captain Fangdick?'

'And Sir Hauntalot,' Paul grumbled. 'Well, Jake, I dunno what to tell you... I guess they just got the mythical creature thing going on.'

'I'm a werewolf!' Jacob snapped, thumping down the bottle on the bar. Princess Pre-Op looked up in alarm, before returning to a one-eyed, one-armed, one-balled customer who was sobbing about how his wife had cheated on him with his pet goat, Angelus. 'Don't I get some points for being completely mythological too?'

Paul's brow furrowed. The pup had a point. It had to be something else that attracted the girls.

'Well, ya know,' he shrugged. 'I mean, it's already been said, Jake... we did kind of go after chicks who like their guys post-mortem. People just don't understand how much necrophilia is impacting our society today...' he said sadly.

Jacob slumped forward, slurping his whiskey with more urgency at this news. 'So our Bells and Susie would rather do dead guys than us... We really have sunk low.'

Paul nodded, hiccupping.

'I mean...' Jacob's expression intensified, 'I get it, I guess... why she's so into Cullen, I mean. He's tall, pale, has yellow eyes–'

'Topaz, Jacob.'

'Yeah, topaz...and the hair is a bit...special, but he totally works it...not to mention the hard skin...I mean, it'd be uncomfortable, but...being hard twenty four seven? She's gotta find that convenient, right?'

Paul sighed wistfully.

'I'll say.'

Jacob looked sullen.

'And Jesse,' Paul agreed. 'He'd probably be having the same issues... That rigor mortis has got to be paying off too, right?' He looked up as Jacob nodded.

Together, they drank another four rounds. Paul was starting to slip sideways, but Jacob caught him just in time.

'Thanks, bro. You know...for a dog, you don't smell nearly as bad as I expected you too.'

'I can say the same for you, shitter.'

'I'm a _shifter_, Jacob.'

'Same thing.'

Paul glared, 'No, Jacob. One involves transportation through time and space, and connection with the dead. The other involves one's anus.'

'I wonder if your Suze is up to something that merges those two things. You know...connection with dead, and her anus.'

'Hey!' Paul tried to seize his shirt, but missed and ended up poking his own eye. Jacob blinked. 'Don't talk about Suze's anus like that! She - she deserves some _respect_! She's...I - _I_ _love_ _her_...' he settled back down, pouting into his bottle. 'I swear to freak, I'm so drunking God...'

'Just think,' Jacob said after ordering a "stiff one" from the bar-maid before regretting his word choice greatly, 'Here we are, sitting here, getting pissed and bemoaning our otherness, while all the way back in Carmel - since we totally flew out to Nebraska to achieve the ultimate bar fly setting - Suze and Jesse, and Bella and Edward are totally making the Bedrock in ways not even Fred _Flintstone_ could…'

Paul blanched.

'Oh God. They're doing it right now…'

–_twi–_

The werewolf and the shitter were only half correct. While the fangbanger and the deadbedder were not currently acting on their nefarious hopes of coitus with their equally attractive yet equally cadaverous boyfriends, they were making large strides towards such a scenario. Which is why both Isabella Swan and Susannah Simon sat beside their respective hunnies in a cool, modern doctor's office.

'Why do we have to be here?' Jesse wanted to know. 'The fact that you're both getting tested for Chlamydia does not alarm me, _querida_, but I don't know why Cullen and myself are required to–'

'Because,' Bella said in a clear voice, 'We have a problem.'

'You see, Edward,' Suze explained, 'Jesse and I lied the other day when we said we were...you know.' She twitched her mouth meaningfully, then proceeding to curl her thumb and index on one hand and poke out her pointer on the other, before repeatedly inserting and withdrawing.

Edward's eyes widened.

'Thank you for that mental picture,' he said coldly.

Bella barged in, as she does. 'So, that's our problem, boys! Suze and I have been discussing this, and we've both decided that we are absolutely _sick_ of having such ripe sexual appetites that are not being attended to.'

'And you wonder why Paul and Jacob keep hanging around,' Suze rolled her eyes. 'God, you're clueless. At least they sense a disturbance in the force - or, you know, the exact opposite.'

Jesse frowned in irritation.

'So...what is this place?' he demanded.

'Sexual therapy!' Bella replied happily. 'We're going to work through your insecurities _together_!' She rubbed her vampire's leg comfortingly.

Edward and Jesse exchanged looks of horror.

'W-what?' Jesse spluttered.

However, no more protests would be heard, because soon enough, the door had burst open suddenly and a tall, blond man in a doctor's coat entered the room, followed by a faintly glowing old guy with askew glasses and a prominent bald patch. Edward leapt to his feet.

'No way!' he spat. 'No WAY am I going to be given sexual therapy by–'

'Now, really Edward...' Dr. Carlisle Cullen chided reproachfully, 'Calm down. Please, sit.'

The vampire suffering from Gingervitis did not sit; instead, his yellow - excuse me, _topaz_ eyes, rounded on the second doctor. 'And who are _you_?' he asked rudely.

'I?' the man tossed his head arrogantly. 'I, boy, am Dr. Clive Clemmings, PhD.'

'You're a ghost,' Bella noted significantly.

...Duuuh.

'You realise you have _no_ training in the medical profession – ' Jesse started, but the bespectacled doctor cut him off with a loud, 'THAT'S _right_, Hector, just LET OUT THE PAIN…'

Jesse sighed, and gave up.

'Well, we thought that you would need doctors from the vampire and the ghost arena to help you in this journey to sexual freedom,' Dr. Cullen explained, once again inviting his adopted son to sit. Edward did with apparent fury. Dude. Bella was totally going to get the hickey of a lifetime when this was over.

Jesse glared at Suze, before reluctantly turning his attentions back to the two doctors before him.

'So, let's get straight into it,' Dr. Cullen said. 'Well, poor choice of words...we'll need to talk before we can get..._straight_ _INTO_ _it._..' He gave Edward a hearty wink, who shuddered convulsively and prayed for deliverance.

'We need to localise the exact problem in your sexual relationship,' Dr. Clemmings said, jotting down notes absently and pushing his glasses back up his long, peaky nose. 'Hector? Why don't you go first? What is it that stops you from having your way with your partner? And don't say nineteenth century values, because I wasn't born yesterday, you know.'

Neither was Jesse. But whatever.

'Erm,' Jesse said stiffly, 'Well...' his cheeks flushed a little. 'As you'd know, we ghosts don't...well...have a heartbeat...hence we have no...' He paused, drew breath, and went on. '...Bloodflow.'

'So?' Bella tilted her head. 'I don't get it.'

'Silly Bella...' Edward chided warmly.

'More like _Stupid_ Bella,' Suze snorted under her breath.

Indeed.

'So you're having some complications with sustaining an–' Dr. Cullen began, but Jesse cut him off with some panic. 'N-no - ! I mean...well..._sustaining_ isn't the predicament, if you catch my drift.'

'We don't catch your drift, Hector,' Dr. Clemmings said.

Jesse winced. 'I can't...you know...you can't keep the fire going if it's not lit in the _first_ place,' he said with a winkled nose.

'Aren't I adequate lighter fluid?' Suze asked, hurt.

This was painful. Jesse groaned, and pinched the bridge of his nose between his thumb and forefinger. _'Dios_...' he muttered. 'I can't - _get_ one, all right? Understand? I don't have bloodflow! Nothing's starting her up, so to speak!' He turned wildly to Susannah. 'It's not you, it's me; me and my soldier who refuses to stand at attention.'

'..._Oh_,' Suze said, finally comprehending. 'So Paul's rigor mortis theory is out.'

Jesse twitched irritably.

'Hmm,' Dr. Clemmings hmmed, jotting down in his notebook. 'And what about you, Edward? We all know why cowboy Jesse isn't riding the old horse. What's your excuse?'

'Well,' Edward spread his hands imploringly, 'You see, Bella is just so incredibly delicate, and I'm just afraid that in my state of abandon, my supreme vampire speed and strength might crush her poor little pelvis if I were to–'

Bella glared.

'Oh, all right,' he snapped. 'Same problem as No-Erector-Hector over there.'

The doctors exchanged looks.

'This is all very confusing,' Dr. Cullen mumbled. 'I, a vampire, enjoy a very active sexual lifestyle with your adopted mother, Edward. _Very_ active.'

The poor boy almost cried.

'And I,' Dr. Clemmings added, 'A ghost, have found a suitable wench down at the Ocean Views Retirement Village. She's sixty-eight, but she's a spry little nymphette when she hasn't taken her medication. Of course, when she has, I'm invisible to her,' he added ruefully. 'Bit annoying really. But the point is,' he said emphatically, 'That being a ghost never stopped my, er, "reserection".'

_'Nombre de Dios_...' Jesse whispered, appalled. Susannah would pay dearly for this.

Drs. Cullen and Clemmings sighed. 'Well, boys, we're stumped. There's obviously an underlying condition at work here, so we've got no choice but to refer you on to someone who can possibly identify the cause of all of your sexual crippling.'

'Speaking of cripples, I know just the man for the job,' Dr. Clemmings cried victoriously.

Edward protested. 'Really, we don't wish to–'

'Shut up, eunuch,' Suze retorted. 'We want our sex!'

'This is what we get for dating humans,' Jesse grumbled bitterly. 'Invasive psychosexual analysis!'

'From my _dad_,' Edward added.

–_twi–_

The two strapping young lads stood in the corner of the cold, dark room, butt naked and covering their junk protectively as a team of specialists examined them from afar. Jesse swallowed nervously, flexing his fingers. 'Is this really necessary?' he called out in a strangled voice.

A flawlessly American reply floated sinuously through the air - even if his laugh, according to some websites, still sounded British–'Of course it is, if you're really intent on unclogging those pipes there. Now stand still.'

Edward shuffled beneath the bright light that illuminated himself and the ghost, who, for all intents and purposes, is completely and utterly visible.

The author chuckles at her phenomenal power...

An African American doctor frowned up at his boss, Dr. Holmes. 'I'm starting to think that it could be Lupus,' Dr. Foreskin said.

'It's never Lupus!' Holmes cried, scandalised, whacking the young baldie with his cane. 'Didn't you see the special features in the Season Two DVDs?'

Dr. Foreskin stood up in frustration. 'Yo, dawg, why you always ridin' me, brotha? I mean, damn! Would you quit nizzling my fo'shizzle for just one _mizzle_?'

'I nizzled your mom's fo'shizzle,' Dr. Holmes replied. 'Last night, actually... dawg.'

Dr. Foreskin left in a storm, leaving the two other little ducklings to examine the subjects. Dr. Carmen fluffed out her long brunette locks which she insisted on never tying up, so as to remain aesthetically pleasing to viewers. 'The patient on the right seems to be extremely pale. Could be anaemic, and may need a blood transfusion. The left patient seems to have a growth on either one of his feet, which appears to be a sharp projection of bone that hasn't–'

'No,' Dr. Case sighed. 'He just refused to take of his spurs.'

'Differential diagnosis, people!' Dr. Holmes called. 'What causes two young guys to suddenly not be able to do their girlfriends? Besides the possibly homosexuality.'

'I put the queen on my money,' Dr. Case said happily. 'I'm British.'

'O...kay...'

Beneath the examination light which was starting to make the vampire sparkle a little, Jesse turned to Edward and hissed, 'I'm getting the impression that this insane author is going to abandon us for a few moments longer while she vicariously lives her disturbing House M.D. fantasies,' he scowled. 'God, I hate Lolly.'

'Really?' Edward cocked his head thoughtfully. 'I think she's rather hot, actually.'

The author suddenly considered rewriting the first chapter of this story in favour of vampires.

...But decided against it.

'Bitch,' grunted Edward.

After the differential diagnosis, the team had a few ideas and were each assigned a medical examination to perform. Dr. Case performed the C-section, Dr. Carmen implanted the DDs, and Holmes took care of the rectal examination. However, they still couldn't seem to discover what was affecting Jesse de Silva and Edward Cullen, who remained completely unable to perform a, er, _vaginal_ examination. Wink wink, nudge nudge.

'The caesarean ruled out cancer, pulmonary edema, Hepitis X and AIDS,' Dr. Case informed his colleagues, standing directly before de Silva and Cullen with a beady look in his eye. God, he had great hair. 'I just don't understand what's wrong with them.'

'We're dead,' Edward drawled.

'NOT ON MY WATCH!' Dr. Carmen cried passionately.

The boys groaned.

Now standing in extreme proximity to Edward Cullen, Dr. Carmen suddenly found herself a little...dazzled. She fluttered her eyelashes at him and asked, 'Are you a somewhat damaged man who will completely shun my every effort if I try to crack onto you?'

'Um,' Edward blinked, '...Yes.'

She beamed. 'Super! Okay, Dr. Holmes - you're free to go. I've found a new one!' at which point she cheerfully slid her arm into Edward's. He looked at Jesse in some panic.

'God,' Dr. Case scolded, 'Carmen, you're such a tool.'

- Dr. Holmes froze.

'...Tool...' he repeated in barely a whisper, his eyes narrowing suddenly in a telltale way. The two remaining ducklings looked at him expectantly. '_Tool_!' Dr. Holmes's gaze shot to Jesse, and his eyes widened. 'Aww, crap. We've spent all week looking at every part of the body that wouldn't help our diagnosis!' he groaned, marching over to Jesse, who swallowed. 'But it's been here all along! Dr. Case! Inspect the red-head's genital area! I'd ask Carmen to do it, but she wouldn't enjoy it nearly as much as you would.'

'Yes sir!' Case glowed, kneeling immediately.

And after five minutes of close examination, Dr. Holmes finally leant heavily on his cane in triumph. 'That's it,' he said. 'These guys have no bloodflow to their penises!'

Edward and Jesse just...stared.

'...Seven days...' Jesse breathed in despair. 'The _rectal exam_...the sudden appearance of _breasts_ on my chest, and you...'

'We already KNEW that,' Edward Cullen spat uber-evil vampire venom. 'You put us through ALL OF THIS, only to _tell us _that - '

'Calm down,' Dr. Holmes rolled his eyes in disdain. 'Would it help to know that I have a cure?'

Jesse and Edward stopped baring their teeth. '...What is it?'

Dr. Holmes smiled cockily. 'Well, as you know, when old men have troubles with this sort of thing, they take some special little blue pills...'

The boys leant in closer.

'...Viagra?' Edward hissed. 'B-but...don't we have to have bloodflow in the first place for that to - '

'Oh, God yes,' Dr. Holmes laughed.

Jesse's eyes narrowed. 'So what is your alternative?' he asked dangerously. 'Because, doctor, I have been standing in this room for a week. Naked. So talk fast.'

'Well, I'm prescribing you SuperSonic Vicodin, of course,' the medical maverick replied.

Edward's expression was deadpan. 'Vicodin?' he sneered.

A little offended at the little faith shown by these young boys, Dr. Holmes seized a tiny jar from his pocket. It was black, marked with a tiny skull that was smiling in a ridiculously gratified way. 'This is what I take for _special_ occasions,' he whispered conspiratorially. 'It helps my dead leg – I'm positive that it will help your dead junk. And hey – when I take it, the girl has to _ask_ which one is my cane.' He eyed Edward meaningfully.

Passing the sacred pills to Jesse, the doctor turned on his heel and began to limp away.

'Wait,' Jesse called.

Holmes paused, and looked back, annoyed. He was missing _The L Word_. Hopefully Wimpson had TIVO'd it. '_What_?'

A little tear slid from Jesse's eye. 'Th-thank you… you…you have a heart of gold, sir…'

'And you'll have a dick of diamond,' Dr. Holmes snapped. 'Now go away.'

–_twi–_

Far away in Nebraska, Paul thunked onto the wooden ground, covered in beer, fur, and long, glistening red scratches all over his back. He was panting.

'Just because I'm an Other Man…' he slurred, taking another swig, 'Doesn't mean I can't enjoy being with _another_ man…'

'You said it, shitter,' Jacob replied.

And he and the Quileute werewolves went for round eight…

Remus Lupin had called in sick.

–_twi–_

And somewhere in Australia, the entirety of Team Jacob found Lolly's home, and killed her.

–_twi–_

**Please review! And despite it being written…please don't kill me.**


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